Characters: Tsunade, Dan, Orochimaru, Jiraiya
Summary: She only ever had three loves.
Pairings: TsuDan, OroTsu, JirTsu
Author's Note: I experimenting with shorter sentences. Obviously, some of them are still long, but others are much shorter than usual. I hope you all like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
(Give me those three in the back. They look like they need a good home.)
i.
In her dreams Dan still laughs gently and says "Sometimes I wonder about you, Tsunade."
This is a response to Tsunade's assertion concerning triage. Dan's take on triage is much more mercenary than Tsunade's; surprising, all things considered.
"You can't save everyone, Tsunade; it's admirable to try, but it just can't be done."
This she knows. This she knows all too well.
First love equals puppy love. Puppy love equals loss of senses. Loss of senses does not equal an experience any less profound than that which keeps reason intact. Tsunade felt the madness on her. She drank it eagerly while it was still hers. It was sweet, but the aftertaste was always bitter.
Young love is not always the most passionate, but there's no use telling Tsunade that. It's the most passionate for her. It's the last time she will ever be so passionate. It's not all that young either. She's twenty-nine when she meets Dan and thirty-three when she loses him. Compared to the wild, immature love of adolescence little about this can be called "young".
"Well, since it's late and all I thought I'd walk you home." It sounds more like the sort of clumsy, awkward gesture proffered by a teenager. Indeed, the long-haired man smiles nervously like a young boy and rubs the back of his neck.
Tsunade rolls her eyes. A sardonic smirk is on her full mouth. "Do you know who I am?"
His eyes sparkling in the lamplight gives Tsunade pause. They're so very blue. "Yes, I know you. Senju Tsunade, one-third of the Legendary Sannin, destroyer of mountains. Anyone mugging you will be lucky to find themselves in a full-body cast. However, can't a man just be polite?"
Yes, he can.
They walk the dark streets together. Tsunade is drowsy and calmer than she can remember being in years. Eventually, she rouses herself to ask, "Okay, wise guy, you know my name. Now how about yours?"
"Katou Dan."
So it goes from there. Seasons pass and fall. Tsunade feels summer, autumn, winter and spring fourfold on her flesh.
In those four years, she is at her happiest. Dan is sweet and kind and charming. His brilliant eyes gleam as he speaks of peace and an end to war. She feels warm and safe in his embrace. Her heart sings to his touch. Smiles are on her mouth where once there were none. She wants to smile now.
Tsunade gives him her grandfather's necklace to wear ("A good luck charm. And when you're Hokage, everyone will know."). On the same day, he asks for her hand. Orochimaru offers congratulations. Jiraiya drinks and gets Dan drunk too. Tsunade is euphoric.
The next month comes. Dan is dead. Tsunade screams at the sight of blood.
-0-0-0-
ii.
Second love is cold and slow. Second love is wary and furtive. Second love is reserved for dark places, and that fits Orochimaru perfectly.
Orochimaru is someone to lean on after Dan is dead. Jiraiya is too inept and too obvious; Tsunade despises the sight of those large, rough hands trying clumsily to comfort. Jiraiya's always had a spark for her. Even when they were children and he called her "flat" and "bitch", he felt that spark. That's too close and too hot for her.
Six weeks after Tsunade leaves Konoha and two before Jiraiya shows up with Shizune in tow, Tsunade hears a knock on the door of her hotel room. Orochimaru is on the other side. He has a box of hot rotisserie chicken in his hand and a request to be let in.
The door is open, and he is in.
Gold eyes watch Tsunade as she mills around the dirty hotel room. She pulls a card table out of the closet. This will serve for the chicken. "Tsunade…"
She grits her teeth. "Spare me the lecture on duty and loyalty to the village. I'm through with both."
Orochimaru blinks. He acts as though he didn't hear. "I don't think this room is up to your standards of cleanliness."
Tsunade can't deny that she's taken aback. That's not quite the answer she was expecting. Then again, Orochimaru has always been strange. She shouldn't have expected "the lecture".
Jiraiya's visits to Tsunade are somewhat sparing in the following years. He can't understand how she could desert Konoha. He doesn't understand her anymore. Orochimaru's visits are many. He has never entertained much loyalty to Konoha despite fighting for it. He does not judge Tsunade, and he does not question her choices.
Shizune darts out of the room every time Orochimaru shows up. Tsunade doesn't know why; the girl is just intimidated by the second third of the Sannin. Orochimaru lets out a dry, rattling chuckle when he sees her slip away. He calls her "little mouse". Considering he's associated with snakes, Shizune can be forgiven for flinching when she hears that.
"How do you keep finding me? Jiraiya and the old man have so much trouble, but no matter where I am you always find me with ease."
His expression is inscrutable. Again, there is rotisserie chicken in Orochimaru's hands; he knows what she likes. Something for something. "Tsunade, I don't think we ever spoke about—"
Tsunade knows who he means. "I don't want to talk about it," she half-snaps. Her heart cringes at the thought.
Orochimaru tilts his head, a curious child's expression. "Then use no words. Silence speaks more."
So it does. Tsunade says nothing, just leans against his shoulder and Orochimaru doesn't try to talk.
The visits dry up. Tsunade finds out about Orochimaru. The words are clipped and harsh: "experiments"; "betrayal"; "traitor"; "unforgiveable."
She feels vague, bitter loss in her tongue and throat. Tsunade doesn't know what to make of Orochimaru. The old and the reality can't be reconciled.
I should have given him the necklace, she decides years later. Then we wouldn't have all gotten in this mess.
-0-0-0-
iii.
Third love is a surrender. Third love is tired and weary. Third love has waited too long and third love is never spoken out loud.
Tsunade can never quite say "yes" to Jiraiya. Of course, he never asks either; there's nothing to say "yes" to. He grins and passes the sake. The grin is hollow. Tsunade can see grief encroaching on his teeth.
"Lovely ladies shouldn't drink alone."
"So that's your excuse."
Jiraiya plies flattery on thick in early years. In later years, the compliments are worn out and he can sense it. They fall into disuse. When he does use them, Tsunade knows he's being sincere. Her throat closes a little, grows hot. She tells herself it's the sake.
Years pass. They grow old together, but they're not "together", and Tsunade is called "old" at the speaker's peril. Years pass, and Tsunade realizes that she's grown use to him. Jiraiya is loud. Jiraiya is crude. Jiraiya is a voyeur and a poor writer, to top it all off. She's used to him. She's grown accustomed to his blunt flattery. She's grown accustomed to his chasing. She's grown accustomed to his lack of hope while chasing.
Why give up so quickly?
Tsunade is tired. Anyone can see it. All they have to do is watch her mouth when she talks. Jiraiya can tell. Jiraiya isn't tired, by contrast to her. He's not ready to die. There will always be another day for him, another chance. For him, there will always be tomorrow.
What foolishness.
Tsunade despises his hope. Tsunade envies his hope. Resolve against him starts to crack, just a little bit. She's been alone too long.
So she smiles a little when Jiraiya makes his jokes. She smiles a little in response to his clumsy flattery. For a legendary porn writer he isn't good with words. Oh well. Tsunade's never like orators. They're too eloquent for her rough life. They see things in smooth lines. Tsunade knows the cracks are jagged.
It's never said, never spoken.
That's how last love should be.
—They say third time's the charm.
Tsunade leaves her office. Eyes follow her. They all shout with surprise, a chorus of questioners.
Third time's the curse.
She can't walk anymore. Her shoulder caves against the wall. Hissing breath comes from between clenched teeth.
You stupid man. You stupid, stupid man.
Here come the tears.
If you'd just come back…
